My daughter, Scarlett, will be two in a few months, and I haven’t felt the urge to publish her birth story until now, although a slightly edited version did appear in our local NCT magazine shortly after the birth. It might have something to do with my best friend’s baby being due any day, and making me reminisce. This is the unedited, gory version, be warned. Continue reading
…on a cloudy day.
That’s what I think when I look at the sunflowers in our flower bed, anyway. Scarlett was sent home with a tiny green shoot in a flowerpot for Mothers’ Day, back in March. And yes, I did cry. A couple of my friends (you know who you are) think it’s hilarious that I cry whenever nursery give me anything Scarlett’s made, painted or planted, but it makes me so happy! I digress.
So, we left it in its little pot and set it on the kitchen table near the window, where it started to grow. I’ve never been very good with plants, but I tried my very best with this one. You know, because my then 12 month old daughter planted it with her own fair hands (with help, granted) and such. Continue reading
Is anyone actually doing anything for the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee? Does anyone do that sort of thing any more?
I love the idea of hanging bunting (this one’s from Lakeland), getting together with your neighbours, everyone bringing a dish, putting everyone’s tables together in a long row with matching tablecloths, and having a great old time. It is also probably the 60s in this dream.
I watched the Royal Wedding (capital R, capital W) last year with much more interest than I thought I would. I wished I’d invited people round so we could enjoy it together.
However, I’ve mentioned before how little I know my neighbours. Which makes the Jubilee dream even more ridiculous. Yes, even more ridiculous than spending £6.99 on four metres of floral bunting. And you know you’d need more than one.
I’m wishing we were a little more community-minded though (not just us, everyone on our street). This week, I’ve made friends with one side of neighbours on Facebook (howdy, neighbours!) – Family B for those of you paying attention. While I think it’s definitely a step in the right direction, isn’t it silly that we’re friends on Facebook before being friends in real life? I’m completely holding myself responsible here.
So, over to you. Do you get on with your neighbours? What broke the ice? Any plans for the Jubilee that involve your neighbours?
Despite living in this house for three-and-a-half years, we don’t really know our neighbours.
On one side, we have Family A; the ones who let their dog poo freely. I’ve mentioned this before. We know the couple’s names, but they had a baby a couple of years ago and I’ve forgotten his name. I know the name of the dog, who is the fluffiest Alsation you ever will see.
On the other side, we have Family B: a lovely couple who I think we’d get on with well if we saw a bit more of each other. I once sat next to the lady on the bus home and we had a lovely conversation. Barry’s spoken to the man’s dad quite a few times, so we know more about him than anyone that actually lives in the house. Her mum has been round a few times to borrow a corkscrew! They also have a dog, but it’s a bit crazy and won’t stop barking when it sees anyone other than the owners. Although I see myself as a dog person, this makes me jump and scares me. On our way home from a night out, a very drunk Barry stopped to pet the dog and (in his best doggy voice), said, “Hello, doggy! Why are you out on your own? Where’s your owner?”. The owner was at the other end of the lead Barry had failed to spot, so I just dragged him away, apologising. The neighbour seemed bemused, but it may be why we haven’t seen much of them.
Both sides have been round and looked at the kitchen. The dad of the man from Family A actually knocked on our door to have a nosey (which is fine because we’re show-offs), and then happened to be outside the day after the worktop was put in, so we asked if they wanted to see it. Family A guy said they were thinking of doing something similar, so there may be a spate of home improvements down our street shortly.
Family B nipped round when B&Q delivered some of our stuff to their house, and made polite noises about it looking nice, but haven’t been round since.
I’m thinking a housewarming may bring us all together. I’m calling it a housewarming, because we never had one, and now we’ve definitely got something to be proud of (or will, when the floor’s done!). After all, we all know that’s when good neighbours become good friends…